Connected Dreams
by Valiance
Summary: Assorted drabbles and ficlets from the KHverse, ranging from Disney to Final Fantasy characters, Sora to Organization XIII, humorous to serious, fluffy to angsty. Final update: Sora has every reason to be happy, yet he feels a sadness that is not his own.
1. Organization Kupo

This month has seen the Three Weeks for Dreamwidth fest, which took place on -- you guessed it -- Dreamwidth, a journalling site. As part of the celebrations, the Kingdom Hearts community had their own Kingdom Hearts commentfic fest, where commenters provided prompts for writers to fill. As well as filling some commentfics, I also wrote some other Kingdom Hearts fic during the fest, and all of them will be posted here once they've been posted on Dreamwidth for three weeks. That means I'm posting them in order of writing, and there will be some delay between updates. For commentfic fills, I'll also post the original prompts at the beginning of each fic.

Anyway, enough of me. Onto the fic!

* * *

**Prompt: **_Whatever happened to the moogle in 358/2, anyway?_

* * *

Leon burst through the door to Merlin's house with a typically Leon grim expression, gunblade in hand. It would have been impressive, if the effect wasn't ruined by the furiously squeaking and squirming mass of black leather and white fur he held in his other hand.

"Wow," Yuffie remarked, swivelling around from where she'd been messing with Cid's computer. (He now had a desktop wallpaper of fluffy kittens to greet him the next time he logged in.) "Did one of your jackets come alive?"

"Very funny. No, it's a--"

"Kupopopopo! Putmedownputmedownputmedown!"

Aerith walked over and peered into its face. "A moogle? Leon, you shouldn't manhandle -- ah, _moogle_handle it like that."

"Take a good look at it," Leon deadpanned, holding it up by the hood of its coat. The little creature gave up struggling, and dangled from his hand forlornly. Even its pompom drooped like a wilted flower. "Does what it's wearing ring any bells with either of you?"

You could almost see the lightbulb ding above Yuffie's head. "Oh! Org-- Organiz--" she spluttered, giggled, tried again, "Organization XIII is recruiting moogles now? How desperate are they?" She burst out laughing, almost falling off her chair. "Whatcha gonna do, kill us with cute?"

Aerith frowned at the moogle, which by now was looking thoroughly sorry for itself. "Are you a Nobody?"

"No, kupo!"

Leon held it up to face height. "Then why are you wearing this?"

"I-It was a disguise!" the moogle squeaked, recoiling under the force of Leon's scarred glare. "My best customer was a member!"

Yuffie, while still stifling giggles, had sufficiently regained her composure enough to ask, "S-So-- Hehe-- So, what are you doing in Hollow Bastion?"

"Looking for new customers! The last was a real sucker -- uh, devoted customer, kupo -- but now he's gone."

Leon looked unconvinced, and Yuffie looked just about ready to dissolve into another laughing fit, but Aerith looked thoughtful. "You know, the Duck triplets and their great-uncle were looking for someone to help them set up their business here..."

"You're going to trust a moogle associated with _Organization XIII_?" Leon scowled at the moogle -- or, the empty moogle-sized coat he was still holding. He blinked at it in surprise.

The moogle, having wriggled its way out of its prison, peered out from behind Aerith timidly. "I'm a free moogle, kupo! I'm turning over a new leaf! I'll help whoever needs it!"

"See, Leon?" Aerith smiled. "He says he'll help. You wouldn't be a very good Restoration Committee leader if you said no."

Leon sighed and put his face in his hand. "...Fine. Whatever."


	2. Kairi Tries

**Prompt: **_Sora/Kairi, Keyblade/sword fighting practice._

* * *

Kairi's face was inches from Sora's.

It was as shining and red as her hair. Her brow was creased in concentration, her teeth gritted. They'd exchanged a flurry of blows, flashes of silver and gold against the sun, until they'd locked their Keyblades together, neither giving ground, both out of breath. Sora was proud of her, how far she'd come in such a short space of time, how quickly she took to the Keyblade, just like he had more than a year ago, just like Riku had more recently. She wielded it so naturally, like an extension of herself, even though she'd only fought one real battle in her life. Every day, she got faster, stronger; soon she might even be able to start on magic.

Then she collapsed onto her knees in the sand. Sora had her in his arms in an instant. At the other end of the beach, Riku jumped to his feet, but Sora made a gesture -- _it's okay, it's fine, I have this under control_.

Reluctantly, Riku sank back down. He always watched the two of them train, though he never took part himself. He'd sworn never to harm either of them again, ever, even in training. Sora thought it was silly, that he didn't trust himself around his best friends like that, but he wasn't going to force him. Riku took his new resolve extremely seriously.

Kairi slumped against Sora, her knuckles white on the hilt of her Keyblade. "I'm okay," she said. "Just need to rest a second."

Sora shook his head. "You should take a break, Kairi. You've been working way too hard."

"No!" She stared around at him, eyes afire. "I need to train. We don't have much time. I told you I want to fight with you both, by your side. I don't want to have to be rescued any more, or kidnapped, or sit around waiting, or..." she pulled away from Sora, "...taken care of, all the time."

Her limbs were still trembling slightly from the morning's exertion and lingering adrenaline, and it seemed only that and her sheer force of will were holding her upright. She looked so determined, it almost made him ashamed of insulting her by suggesting they stop.

But Sora pushed the thought aside, and climbed to his feet. He couldn't let his feelings get in the way. "The way you're training, you seriously _do_ need rescuing. Just one more time -- from giving yourself heatstroke." He held out a hand to help her up. "We'll take a break, get you something to eat and drink, then we can go over that move one more time. Deal?"

Kairi looked at him, then to her Keyblade, and for a moment he thought she'd refuse. But then she gave a weak smile, and took his hand.

"Deal."


	3. Pity

Jasmine shivered. She didn't know how, or when, but her surroundings had changed from the Cave of Wonders to this... dungeon? No place like this existed in Agrabah, that was for certain. It was cold, and silent, lifeless and lightless. The darkness, darkness she could instinctively feel, it crept along her skin, curling around her, emanating from the presence behind her. Her hands were bound at her wrists to stop her struggling, even though she wanted to do nothing but bolt.

The presence shoved her forwards, and there was a boy's voice. "Keep walking."

She tried to look over her shoulder, but she only got another shove for her efforts, rougher this time. Who was he? There were many boy-servants in the palace, but she didn't recognise the voice. And where was this? Surely it had something to do with Jafar, and that evil woman...

She tried to think of Aladdin's bright-eyed smile, but it was hard, right now. Silently, she prayed he and his friends had escaped unscathed.

"Why are you doing this?"

The boy – that was what he had to be, unless he was a monster of the darkness that could speak – didn't break step. "So I can find someone."

"Who?"

"Someone special to me."

Jasmine stopped and turned. She wasn't afraid of disobeying him; she was the Princess of Agrabah! "Then please, let me help you find them. You don't have to do this."

He glared, but it lost some of its effect, as she was a little taller than him. It was hard to see in the darkness of the tunnel, or corridor, or wherever this place was, but he had unusual clothes, and hair like unpolished silver. Light jade eyes were hard and distant, offset by a round, pale face – making him, she realised with a jolt, very young. Perhaps the same age as her, or even younger.

"You _will_ help me find her," said the boy, and his face, a face that could have been handsome, twisted into a sneer. "You just don't know it yet. Turn around and keep walking."

"I feel sorry for you," she said. "That you have to rely on these evil people."

"Shut up!" There was a flash and a crackle of darkness, and something sharp pricked her throat, forcing her head back. It was a swordpoint, she realised from the corner of her eye, the blade shaped to look like a dragon's wing. She'd never seen anything like it, not even amongst the ornamental blades of the palace armoury. "Get moving, _now_. Maleficent's expecting us. If you don't, I'll feed you to the Heartless."

She couldn't stop her heart pounding, even though she knew he wasn't going to hurt her. He needed her, that witch needed her. Raising her chin defiantly, she turned and continued to walk, deeper and deeper into the darkness.

Truly, she pitied him.


	4. Beginnings and Ends

**Prompt: **_Yuffie, growing up in Traverse Town._

* * *

Yuffie doesn't mind Traverse Town. She still remembers, in detail, the unhappy circumstances in which she arrived: in a gummi ship stuffed with people that had managed to scramble away, five of them squashed into Cid's two-man ship. There was a scuffle over who would get the other seat – in the end, it ended up being given to a teenager called Squall, whose face had been streaming with blood, his stare into the stars a million miles away. She'd never forget all the blood she saw that day, the metallic smell of it. Despite Aerith's best efforts, the boy was left with a scar. He became Leon.

She never understood at the time, what had happened – she was seven. She thought it was an elaborate game, a joke, and she wanted to see her father's face when he knew she'd run away. Yes, he was still there, would be there as soon as their stone-faced pilot took them back from their heroic adventures across the stars.

Yuffie clutched her father's shuriken closer to her like a blanket, and decided that she'd be back just as soon as she got tired of her adventuring.

She remembers her excitement, at this new world: the constant night-time, harassing the moogles, stealing from people from other worlds and amassing all kinds of treasure (she once made off with throwing stars from a fellow ninja passing through, after his dog almost bit her hand off), making an awesome secret ninja hideout in the underground waterway, sleeping on rooftops and no one to boss her around except Cid's angry swearing and the equally grumpy Squall 'it's _Leon_' Leonhart.

She remembers her dread, when the first Heartless began to show, even here. She thought it was still a game. She learned it wasn't when Aerith had to heal a gash across her chest, where it had tried to take her heart. More blood, just like that day, hazy except the feeling of _terror_, pure dread that made her heart pound and her stomach churn like she was going to throw up. That day had never been a game, she realised. Deep down, she'd always known.

Aerith had a quiet friend, with spiky blond hair and shocking blue eyes, but she never remembered his name. He disappeared after a few years, and never came back. Aerith said very little after that, and spent a long time staring up at the stars, but it didn't last long: Yuffie was there to fill the gap, to make her smile again. The two couldn't be more different, Aerith gentle and kind and loving to wear dresses (ick, pink) and Yuffie loud and ninja and badass and generally awesome and... Well, Yuffie still liked her, even if back home – home? Where was home, again? Did it have a name, like Traverse Town? – she'd preferred to play with boys, who liked to fight and climb and get messy and not care. Aerith was older, only a few years younger than Leon, but she was her first female friend... really, the first female _in_ her life at all, so it was interesting and new. A win-win situation.

After a particularly bad assault on Traverse Town, one they all barely survived, she _remembered_. A story playing out in her head, like it had happened to someone else. A little girl, screaming as the streets were flooded with black creatures, and she'd been left all alone. Watching as they converged on her father, he shouted her to _run_, desperately pushed his shuriken on to her so she could protect herself, even their tiny little claws sinking into his chest-

And she'd run, blindly swinging her father's final gift left and right even though it was almost as big as her. She wasn't the make-believe heroine, the Great Ninja Yuffie. She was a terrified child, and even if she didn't understand what she'd just seen, she'd known in her heart of hearts that he was gone, she had no one.

Until a boy with blond hair took her hand and pulled her along to the gummi ship bays.

It was Yuffie's turn to stare up at the stars, as if she could somehow find him amongst them. Wonder if maybe he'd been on that star that just blinked out, or maybe that one? She'd managed to wipe it all from her memory, pretend it was nothing, just another of the Great Ninja Yuffie's adventures. Cloud – that was his name. And he was gone, and she'd never be able to thank him.

She'd let Aerith embrace her that night, even as she cried a little, too shocked and exhausted for her usual bravado.

After that night, Yuffie remembers a tiny little mouse-king that had arrived. He had round, black ears and the cutest little tail, but he was very much serious as she watched him talk with Leon. The two were shut away for the longest time, until she was beginning to wonder if they'd fallen asleep mid-discussion. They hadn't, but ever since then, Leon became obsessed with something called a Keyblade, that could fight Heartless and protect worlds from their destruction. He said he wanted to find a way to use it, but he never did.

Then Sora came, the real Keyblade master (much to Leon's initial chagrin) and everything changed.

She could go home.

It was a little sad, to think. She was sixteen – so she'd spent longer in Traverse Town than she ever had her real 'home'. But Aerith said the town had been very beautiful, Leon reassured he'd try to find a way for them to compete in the Coliseum tournaments with a little help from Cid, and before long... Cloud came back.

It's a fact of life, one learned the hard way, that everything comes to an end. But that's not so bad, Yuffie decides, when the future looks so bright.

* * *

**Cameos:**

_(she once made off with throwing stars from a fellow ninja passing through, after his dog almost bit her hand off)_

~ A reference to Shadow the ninja and his dog, Interceptor, from Final Fantasy VI.


	5. A Little Something Extra

**Prompt: **_Axel, Roxas, and Demyx - hotsprings._

* * *

It had been a simple enough recon mission, scouting out a new world. Xigbar was supposed to be taking Roxas, but he ducked out at the last minute, a grin and a wink and a vague explanation that he had 'more important stuff to do than the grunt work'. Instead, Demyx took his place, and Axel, for lack of a mission to do himself, had come along for the ride.

One lengthy exploration of the world later, they were trudging through the snow of a freezing cold mountain, staring longingly down at the sweeping green farmland and the comforts of the imperial palace below.

"Knew I should've gone with Xion instead," Axel muttered. "A boring old world is better than all this _snow_."

Stupid Xigbar and his stupid high-rank privileges.

"I hear you," Demyx made a face. "My feet are gonna _fall off_ from cold- ahh!" He tripped, and almost fell flat on his face, but caught his balance just in time. "See! See! My toes have frostbite! I'm gonna die! Help, I'm dying!"

Roxas cocked his head. "You tripped on a rock."

"Just leave me here to die!" Demyx wailed, oblivious, clutching his supposedly injured foot, hopping on the other. "I can't go ooon!"

A strong and particularly cold gust of wind made Axel shudder. He hated chill, especially in extreme conditions like this; it was like Vexen was spiting him from beyond his nonexistent grave, laughing like a maniac the whole time. Impatiently, he said, "Roxas here might fall for that-"

"Fall for what?"

"-See? But I can see straight through you. You're being a drama queen so you can RTC at the first chance you get." Axel gestured to the musician, then the steep, snowy path ahead. "How about you take point where we can keep our eyes on you."

"But I _hate_ taking point. What if something jumps out at me? What if I fall? Plus all this nasty cold stuff up to our knees!" He pouted and, gingerly, put his (allegedly) injured foot back on the ground. "Can't you melt the snow for us? Make a path?"

"Nope. It's against the rules. Or do you want something to follow the big trail we'd leave behind?"

He gulped and paled. "N-No."

Heaving the largest sigh he could muster, Demyx then took the lead – and Axel noticed he'd forgotten to pretend to limp on that injured foot of his.

As the two of them brought up the rear, Roxas asked, "What's a 'drama queen', Axel?"

* * *

The mountain trail was a series of treacherous paths and sudden drops, the conditions so harsh even the Heartless were few and far between, most only lurking in caves. But eventually, the three came to a sudden incline, and Demyx rushed ahead, shouting and cheering in excitement.

The two friends exchanged a confused glance, but the source of his excitement soon became apparent.

Around a bend, sheltered by high rock walls from the biting wind, was a pool of water. Steam coiled up and up into the open air. A discarded set of black clothes sat at the side of the spring, and their owner was already sinking into the water with a contented sigh. "Ahh, there is a god out there."

Axel folded his arms with a scowl. "Demyx."

"Ahh, I think my toes are coming back. Yep. Goodbye, frostbite!"

"_Demyx_."

"Ahh, it's so nice and warm. I don't think I'll move from this spot ever again. Never mind the Organization; good riddance!"

"Demyx!" Axel snapped. "What about the mission? I'm not becoming a Dusk just because _you_ are a slacker."

Roxas headed over to the pool for a closer look, and up to the sliver of sky above. The wind howled in the distance, but it couldn't reach them here. "What is this place?"

"A gift to us weary travellers, oppressed by the harsh elements!" Demyx leaned back against the edge of the pool, arms behind his head and eyes closed.

As ever, Roxas turned to Axel for an explanation.

"A hot spring," he translated. "It's a naturally formed pool of water that gets heated by... rocks, or whatever. Pull that idiot out of there for me, would you, Roxas?"

"Are you kidding?" The musician's voice rose to that high, nasal quality that grated on Axel's nerves so much, amplified by the walls. How Demyx thought he could be a decent singer with a voice like that, he'd never puzzle out. "We should all take a break. Wouldn't the Superior, like, be completely bummed if his Keyblade master froze to death?"

Axel was about to bridle against the idea of Roxas being '_his Keyblade master'_ – Roxas didn't _belong_ to anyone – but the kid was already shrugging off his own coat and boots, and clambering in.

Demyx grinned at the small victory. "It's good, right?"

Roxas disappeared in the water until he was only a disembodied floating head. "Wow, it kind of is."

Axel closed his eyes for patience. "Guys, seriously, that's nice, but-"

"Come on," Roxas grinned, cheeks flushed pink from the warmth, moving along to the other side so he could climb in. "As long as we finish the mission, having the icing on the cake isn't going to hurt, right?"

"A little something extra?" Axel echoed, and rolled his eyes. Still, it did look inviting, and Demyx looked as though he'd died and went to Nobody heaven. (Not that there was one.) "Ugh, _fine._"

Grumbling and complaining all the while, like sitting in a relaxing hot spring was the lastthing he wanted to do – someone had to act like the responsible one – Axel pulled off his clothes and lowered his wiry frame into the water. It was an uncomfortable fit, with elbows and knees bumping into one another, but the warmth over his freezing and aching muscles really was like a godsend. A shiver went down his spine – this time at the warmth, not the cold. Spending the rest of the day here wouldn't be so bad.

Not that he'd admit it. "We'll stay for half an hour, then finish the mission. Got it?"

From underneath dripping blond bangs, Roxas looked like a mournful, half-drowned kitten. "Okay..."

"One hour, tops." Damn, those big blue eyes got him every time.

From Demyx's side of the pool, there came a huge sigh of relief.


	6. Search and Destroy

**Prompt: **_Saïx/Axel, "I will never let you go. You will always be mine."_

* * *

Axel has looked everywhere, has scoured the whole damn town for his best friend. He's here and yet he isn't. None of the Dusks returned, and only a single Assassin managed to bring back a single photo, with a message that XIII really was close at hand; he just needed to search more closely. Whatever that meant.

He'd damn well burn Twilight Town down if he has to. He isn't going back to the Organization until he finds him.

Whether or not he'll come quietly is another matter entirely.

A familiar voice behind Axel makes him tense. "Wasting your time like this on a friendship that doesn't exist. Pitiful."

Axel grits his teeth, doesn't turn around. "Why are _you_ here? This is a one-man search party, if you didn't get the memo."

A hand seizes his shoulder and wrenches him around. Fierce golden eyes very close, boring into his.

"To remind you of where your allegiances lie."

"Nothing's changed."

"_You_ have changed," Saïx says. His voice is lower than usual, rougher. "Don't think I don't know which side you have chosen. But what are you really most loyal to: ten years with the Organization, or a year with the Keyblade hero's Nobody – a mere tool?"

"Three hundred and fifty-eight days," is Axel's murmured correction.

He is slammed back against the alley wall. Lips crush against his, _biting_, his body pressed between the hard brick and Saïx, Saïx's fingers digging into his shoulders like he wants to break them, Saïx's teeth bared like fangs – and damn, is he _growling_?

"You are the Organization's." Saïx's breath ghosts against his cheek. He's breathing hard, like an animal. "You are mine. If you leave, I will hunt you down. I will destroy you. I will never let you go."

Axel stares into those eyes. A slow, defiant smirk creeps along his face.

He always has loved a challenge.


	7. Substitute

**A/N: **Written for _twintailed_, a longtime friend and Naminé/Riku shipper.

* * *

Zig-zags of yellow clashing with bright blue, punctuated by curving clumps of white. Brown lines stretching up into the sky, topped with arches of green. A colourful beach scene, and despite the childlike style, everything as precisely positioned as a photograph. In the middle of it all, two figures: a girl in white, a boy in yellow and blue, with silver hair. Crude stick-arms join to hold hands.

He is finished. The girl is incomplete.

Naminé looks up from her sketchbook, and the sudden, endless white makes her blink. There is no colour in the room, nor the white flowerbud pod in the centre. The crayons on the colourless table is the only source to be found.

Her hand reaches out, hovers between the red and yellow crayons. The girl needs hair to be complete.

"What are you drawing?"

It pierces the silence and hum of machines, and Naminé's hand jerks away. She looks around, guiltily, and _he_ is there, standing behind her. The strip of black that is now his eyes is fixed on her sketchbook. He cannot see it, but redness still creeps into her cheeks.

"Memories," she says. Partly hating herself, feeling ashamed, that she'd almost chosen the yellow crayon. "Of you and her."

"Can I see it, when it's finished?"

He sounds so quietly hopeful, so full of longing, but of course a drawing is no substitute for the real thing.

"Of course," she says.

Riku's mouth – usually a tight, serious line – turns up at a corner into the ghost of a smile. Then he sweeps past her, as always, to check on the pod.

_She's_ no substitute for the real thing, either.

As easy as it would be to give into temptation, to choose yellow hair over red, to paint her designs across bright beating hearts and draw them to her, draw _his_ to her, she's learned from her mistakes. She won't interfere. Never again.

Naminé picks up the red crayon, and begins to complete the drawing.


	8. The Pain of Separation

**A/N: **Last but not least, here's the final fic of this series of drabbles. This one was actually written after 3W4DW, but I figured it was a good way to end. Thanks for sticking with me!

* * *

Sora is swimming in the shallows when he casts his gaze out to the horizon. It's early morning, but summer, so even in the early hours of the day, it is already hot and humid – better to hit the beach before it gets _too_ hot. As ever, the Destiny Islands dawn is beautiful, making the water shimmer crystalline red. How many days is it he's daydreamed about seeing this sunrise again? Impossible to guess. So many.

But now he's here. Now he's happy. So it is completely unexpected when he turns back to shore, seeing Riku and Kairi sitting and laughing and talking together, and a sudden knife stabs at him, cold and sad, so incredibly sad, and _alone_.

He doesn't feel like swimming any more. Three strokes and he's wading back onto the sand. The two of them look over briefly, Kairi smiling, "Had enough?" and he just nods and smiles back – tries to – and sits down next to her, towelling off his hair.

He gets a poke in his side, which makes him peer out at the offender. "Ow?"

"Is everything okay?" she asks, frowning. Yeah, so, he's always been pretty bad at hiding it when he feels sad.

He pulls the towel off his head, twines it between his hands, stares out at the first pale rays of sun. He doesn't know which makes him sadder: looking at them, or at that sky and sea.

"Come on, Sora. You can tell us." And now even Riku's giving him that look. Both have always been able to see right through him.

"I dunno," he says. "All of a sudden I just feel... Right here..." He puts a hand over his heart, not really knowing how to put it into words. There's no reason for it, he has all the reasons in the world to be happy.

"Feel what?" Kairi asks.

"Sad."

"Sora..."

"Yeah, I know, it's weird."

"No, it isn't," says Riku. "Didn't you say this has happened before?"

Sora considers. And.

_Oh._

Twilight Town. The World that Never Was. There aren't any memories that don't belong to him, just flashes of feeling, happiness or sadness, anger or despair, pain or joy, sometimes so strong they bleed into his own. They're one, now, and that oneness means those snatches of emotion now belong to him, too. It's something that took him a while to understand, something he's still trying to.

"I – _he_ – misses someone. Someone important. A friend, I guess."

"A friend..." Kairi quietens; becomes more subdued. "Axel?"

_he was the only one i liked_

Sora's stomach clenches. He hangs his head, and guesses from his own reaction, yes, that's exactly it, he misses someone he barely knows. This stuff is so complicated. Nobodies aren't even supposed to have feelings, so why are these so strong they're affecting _him_?

"Well, they were best friends." Riku leans around Kairi, claps a hand to Sora's shoulder. "We'll just have to remind you both that you still have us."

"Yeah, you're stuck with us." Kairi links her arm in Sora's, and laughs a little. "Us, and your millions of other friends out there. Who knows, maybe one day, he'll..."

The world has suddenly gone very blurry and his eyes very wet, so he rubs his eyes roughly with the back of his hand. "Come back?" Sora's voice shakes. "Don't know."

_not that nobodies actually_ have _beings, right?_

"Maybe, maybe not. DiZ – Ansem the Wise – said Nobodies don't exist, but he was wrong about them. In a lot of ways."

Kairi stands and stretches, takes a deep breath of the fresh morning air. "Yes. Riku's got a point, Sora. You and I are proof that Nobodies can carry on existing. Maybe one day, he really will come back, somehow. There's always hope, even for those without hearts."

Sora can't quite look at them, embarrassed. Getting upset over someone he barely knows... It should feel like being a little kid again, getting sad over something stupid, trying not to cry over getting splinters in his fingers or tripping in the sand, especially around Riku – cool, calm, completely dauntless Riku. It should feel like that, but it doesn't.

_he made me feel like i had_

It hurts so much more. The pain of separation, one Sora knows all too well. Like watching him disappear behind a white door, like letting go of her hand, and a single desperate hope: _We'll meet again._

The realisation makes him blink. Against all odds, they _did_ meet again.

"Yeah," he says, still rubbing his eyes and wiping his face. Then, with more conviction, as he begins to believe it: "Yeah. More unlikely things have happened. Whenever that day comes, I think I – _he_ – can wait for it. After all, he's me."

Riku grins and rumples Sora's still-dripping hair. "That's the Sora I know."

"Hey, watch it!" He knocks his hand away, grinning back.

"All right," Kairi looks down at them, and smiles. "How about another swim – together, this time? It looks like it's going to be a beautiful day."

She isn't exaggerating. A gentle breeze stirs the trees and makes the flowers dance. Up above, a gull cries as it leaves its nest, heading out to sea. The sun is climbing higher, as the burning red sunrise begins to fade into morning skies, a shade of crushed powdery blue.

A voice whispers in Sora's ear,

_i can wait._


End file.
